The Butler
by human-tomato
Summary: In which Phil is the prince, and Dan is only his butler
1. Chapter 1

Dan looked out the palace window. Beyond the gates, the village seemed to be waiting for the day to start. No cows were grazing, no people swarmed the square. The rows and rows of plain brown houses were tinged orange as the sun began to rise, painting the sky all shades of red.

It was a plain town, as far as they went. No big buildings or special markets. But to Dan, it was home. In one of those small buildings, his siblings were sleeping peacefully, relying on their big brother to bring home money so they could eat. Live. Survive.

Just the thought was enough for him to gather up the will to go on.

For the past ten years of his life, since he was eight and therefore old enough to look after the young royal brats in the nursery, Dan had worked at the palace doing odd jobs. His parents had died only two years later, leaving him the only one able to support his six younger siblings. Even now Dan refused to let the others work for the royal family. The jobs payed well enough, to be sure, but there were...downsides.

Downsides like how there was nothing stopping your superior from beating you if you did anything wrong. How rape was a common part of every job, and if you were targeted nothing could stop your attacker.

Or like how the one who had held Dan's new job, as the prince's butler, had been beheaded simply for spilling tea in the kitchen.

He shook his head, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. The castle was, quite unlike the town, wide awake. Awake and stuffed full of several pounds of raw sugar. Maids and butlers ran about, each trying to get to their own separate stations before the rooster sang. The cleaning staff was washing windows and polishing floors. One girl, who Dan assumed to be from the kitchen, was running around and asking anyone who would stand the few seconds it took to stop and listen if they had seen a bag of flour.

The prince's room was remote, far away from the bustle of the castle. Dan supposed it would make sense; little mister royalty needed his beauty sleep.

He was still asleep when Dan entered. Though Dan hadn't any prior training for this particular job (it was only temporary, until they could find a permanent replacement), he remembered the basics from watching his father for so many years. Dan pulled out dress pants and a button up shirt from the dresser. The maid had already brought in the tea, which was thankfully still piping hot. After he got the fire going, there wasn't anything left to do but wait.

It felt awkward standing there, watching the prince sleep, but Dan didn't want to risk sitting in one of the overstuffed chairs by the fireplace. If the last one had been killed for spilling tea, Dan hated to think of what would happen if he was caught degracing a chair with his ass. Instead, he dared to move around, taking in the prince's quarters.

The room wasn't actually just one, but rather two. The second was a sitting room of sorts, which was where Dan stood. In it were the chairs and a plush couch that would've been big enough for even Dan, who was more than six feet tall, to take a comfortable nap on. A desk on which several tall stacks of papers, as well as a number of runaways sat, was placed under the window. A fireplace filled one wall and a fully stacked book shelf another.

Dan heard a yawn from underneath the mess of covers and blankets and hurried into the prince's room just before his eyes slipped open.

"Good morning," Dan chirped, folding the clothes over his arm the way he remembered his father doing. (God, if his father could see him now. He'd be so disappointed-not in Dan, but in himself for forcing Dan into this life. For making it so that Dan hadn't even the money or time to earn his middle school degree, much less high school or, God forbid, college. At least he could read and write. Few others in the castle knew how, but that had been the one thing his mother insisted fully on.)

The prince eyed him tiredly, but also the least bit warily. Like he was debating whether or not to trust this brown eyed stranger who had so brightly invited him to the day at such an early hour. After a brief awkward silence, he cleared his throat, looking pointedly at the clothes folded over Dan's arm. "Be careful with those," he said, voice low and groggy, "you wouldn't want to get them wrinkled. Who knows what would happen then."

"Death, I'd assume," Dan muttered before he could sensor his words. Immediately, a flash of guilt and fear ran through him. Was it too late to write out a will?

To his surprise, the prince laughed. "You're a lot more honest than the last, really. Doesn't help that you're good-looking either. I think I like you..." He waved his hand as a cue for Dan to finish.

"Daniel. But you may call me Dan if you'd like. Your Highness."

"Phil." He pushed himself out of bed, grabbing the clothes from Dan. "I can change by myself. I have a feeling it'd be awkward if you did it for me and besides, I'm not a toddler anymore. Go...to the kitchen. Something. Better yet, head to the nursery. Help Daniella practice her alphabet. You may send away the tutor. I'm afraid I don't fancy him."

Dan hesitated, but Phil was already turning away.

The nursery was one of the smaller rooms in the castle, but still bigger than Dan's whole house nonetheless. On the floor was a rug embroidered to look like the galaxy, complete with the names of multiple constellations and stars. At one edge was the moon, and at the other the sun. He had always, stupidly, it seemed, thought it oddly romantic how the sun's rays reached out to the moon, stretching as far as possible, but never quite made it. It was like they loved each other but their romance was doomed from the moment they were placed in the sky.

The walls of the room were a deep blue, which Dan had always thought to be a very calming color. In one corner there was a stack of various games the children could play, but the majority was filled with school items: writing utensils, paper, books.

Daniella, Phil's younger sister, was sitting in the middle of the room with her tutor. He was counting, "One, two, three, four..." and up until ten. When he finished, Daniella showed with her fingers the numbers as opposed to saying them aloud.

Dan barely bit back a gasp. He had heard the rumor about the princess-that watching her mother be murdered at a young age had made her selectively mute-but knew better than to believe it. After all, he had also heard that Prince Phillip was a vampire, but that didn't seem to be true (though he did have rather pale skin).

"The prince sent me," he said, voice coming out louder than he had meant it to. Dan cringed, running a hand through his hair subconsciously. "He said...well...he said you may take the day off, and I'll teach the princess her ABC's."

"Ridiculous," the tutor said, standing up and storming towards Dan. Their faces were close enough that Dan could feel spit from the man landing on his face when the other talked. "The young prince may not like me, but he does not have the right to send me away in the middle of a lesson! And certainty not just to be replaced by an arrogant, most likely illiterate, fool!"

"I am not illiterate." Dan fought to keep his voice below a yell, not wanting to startle the princess. "And you and I both know better than to disobey direct orders from the prince. So I suggest you pack up your books and leave. Right now, preferably."

Dan could almost see smoke coming from the tutor's nose, but it didn't matter. He grabbed his books and note cards and stormed from the room, leaving them alone.

He sat cross legged beside Daniella, giving her a small wave. "Hello there, Your Highness. My name is Dan. Your brother told me to help you with your alphabet?"

The girl nodded, sticking her thumb in her mouth. Another rumor about the princess was that she was illegitimate-the daughter of the king and a palace maid. Looking at her, Dan could almost believe it. Compared to Phil's icy looks, with ivory skin, bright blue eyes and black hair, Daniella was a desert. Golden hair and skin, warm honey eyes. Even with her being the young age of five, Dan could tell she would be a beautiful young woman.

He nodded, looking around. Close by was a pad of paper the tutor had left, as well as a quill pen. "Here," he said, handing both to her. "Write what you know down for me, if you will."

She complied, handing Dan back the paper after only a few seconds. Not only was the writing impeccable, far neater than his, but all the letters were correct. If she didn't need help with the actual memorization, than Phil must've sent Dan to get her to say it aloud.

That would take a lot more work.

"Good job, Daniella." The girl seemed surprised at the praise, her already wide eyes growing still bigger. He supposed that, she being a she and the younger sibling, Daniella wouldn't have too much attention. It made him feel a rush of empathy for the girl. "Now, can you just...say this for me? Please?"

She shook her head.

Dan sighed, smoothing out invisible wrinkles in the paper. It was fine quality. He would do anything to have one pad, just one, to bring home to his siblings. "If you do, we'll take a walk in the gardens."

The princess hesitated, but said, in a voice so soft Dan had to lean forward to hear, "A..b...c...c-can I stop there? I know it...it's just..." Her eyes filled with tears and she seemed to shrink in on herself.

"Yes, yes, of course," he told her hurriedly, "very good, princess. You're doing wonderful, really. I'm sure you'll be a fine scholar when you get older."

But of course she wouldn't. Princesses were married and carted off to distant kingdoms, where their only job were to produce male heirs for their husbands. Dan had never heard of a happy queen; female rulers lead their lives loveless and lonely. Many killed themselves at young ages. It saddened him to think that this would be Daniella's fate; she was such a sweet thing for such a cruel world. A rarity.

They made their way out of the castle and onto the grounds. Despite the architecture done by only the best and exquisite decor of the palace, Dan had always found the gardens to be far more beautiful. Here, buds were always the first to bloom, and in such bright colors it was nearly impossible to believe that one hadn't stumbled upon heaven on earth. Even in the winter the snow seemed to shimmer brighter than anywhere else on the planet.

Despite its charm, he knew that the castle's royal inhabitants didn't see much of the outer parts of their home. He had never once seen the king leave his quarters, and from the number of times he had so much a glimpse of the prince and princess they might as well have been rumors themselves.

Daniella ran out into the sunlight, only turning around once to grin at Dan before sprinting into the flower beds. He sat on an old bench, the silver of which was tarnished with age, and watched the princess run about. She stopped to smell just about every type of flower, gathering what seemed to be her favorites in her arm.

After a few minutes, she found a ball hidden underneath leaves and managed to convince Dan to teach her a game with it. They played a simple game the boys in his neighborhood used to play in the streets where the ball had to stay in the air for as long as possible. Because she was small, Dan altered the rules to allow one bounce. Daniella sat down her bouquet on the bench and they played until both of them were smeared with dirt and breathless with laughter.

The princess' nanny found them outside at noon and fed them lunch, but only after giving Dan a stern talking to about how "inappropriate this is," and how "the princess must be presentable, and you should be too, as a butler! The prince's, no less."

The princess ate and, leaving the tray on the bench for the gardener to pick up, scooped her flowers carefully in her arms and gestured for Dan to follow her.

He did, letting the girl lead him to a small cemetery plot that was nearly empty. The half dozen people there left with bows and curtsies, leaving only one black haired boy in front of the largest, most elegant grave. The prince.

Dan bowed, blushing furiously as he imagined how much of a mess he must look like, with his soiled clothes and dirty face. "Your highness," he greeted nervously.

"Daniel." Phil didn't turn from the grave. There was a slight quiver to his voice, as if he had been crying. "I trust your day has gone well?"

"Yes, sir."

"Did my sister talk to you?"

"A-" Dan looked at Daniella, clearing his throat, "a small bit, sir. During the game and a few letters of the alphabet, sir."

"Well." Phil stood, keeping his face towards the ground. "Very well then. I'm turning in early tonight, Daniel. I do not believe I require your assistance."

Dan nodded, watching the princess, who was pretending to be oblivious to the conversation.

As he passed him, Phil smiled. Not a lot, but if one looked close enough it was definitely there. And it was hard not to notice when their faces were mere inches apart. "Thank you, Daniel. Congratulations on surviving your first day."


	2. Chapter 2

The princess was coming, and the one thing that was going to ruin the whole event seemed to be a mere latch.

Most butlers and maids had to worry about cleaning, about making sure all the rooms were ready and windows washed. Simple things that they did every day, though on a (much) gaudier scale. But no. Dan was missing a latch for the prince's suit jacket, and that was it. This small, insignificant-seeming piece of silver was going to get him killed. He was sure of it.

As he was pacing (not a good idea when one should be searching for something, but seemingly the only thing he was physically able to do at the moment), Dan heard the door open behind him.

The prince walked in, wearing simple trousers and a red tunic with a hood that almost fully covered his eyes. He pushed it back, revealing a head of messy and sweaty black hair. He had been on a riding trip all day. Dan had hoped the group would take longer to come back, but obviously luck was not on his side.

This whole ordeal was ridiculous. If they had simply hired another butler in the two months Dan had been working for Phil, as expected and promised, this would never have happened.

"Is something wrong, Dan?" He asked, draping the cloak over a chair and running his fingers over the shelves as if looking for a book to read. Which, having known him for so long, Dan knew was not the case. Phil just liked the texture of the spines, and the thought that he could read one, and pick which one to read. It gave him a sense of control he liked after long days with his father. Days that usually entitled giving orders that weren't his and watching people die who were innocent, when he knew it was far from the right thing.

He was a slave to his father, and Dan was a slave to him.

Dan knew better than to lie to Phil. Not only because was he the prince, but they had built a sort of trust. Dan would tell him anything, whether sarcastic or just a problem, and Phil would make sure to give him updates of things going on around the palace and extra lineage. In exchange, Dan would act as a sort of friend towards the prince. He may not project the fact and even seemed to go out of his way to keep it secret, but Phil was lonely. He had something sadder about him than anything Dan could've imagined someone rich feeling.

"It's the latch," he admitted, hanging his head. "I'm sorry, Your Highness, but I'm afraid I lost one and now the maids cannot complete the suit."

"Are you telling me there are no other latches anywhere in the palace? None at all? How crucial exactly is this one, anyways?"

Dan blushed and admitted that everyone around the palace was too busy to ask, and the ones that weren't refused to talk to him. After the last butler had died, they all felt there to be a certain taboo tied to the position. "Besides," he added, "It's important that it would match the other latches on the suit jacket. So I need to get all new latches or one that matches, before the princess arrives tonight."

The prince shook his head, looking at Dan as though the answer were obvious. "So just go into town and get a few latches."

"It's not so simple, your highness."

"Well, why not?" Phil gave him a bored look, "I can give you a few coppers, if that is what you would require. The latch shop is just barely into town. Impossible to miss, really. You could even visit your family while you're there."

"That's very kind of you," Dan smiled at the thought of being able to see his brothers and sisters, a rare occasion when he returned at midnight and later. "But I'm afraid I'm not to leave the palace without a guard. It's a matter of...loyalty, I suppose. They don't want any of the staff to slouch from their jobs. And all the guards are in training, preparing for the ball tonight."

"I've never heard of that rule." Phil stretched his arms in front of him with a yawn. "Alright, I'll go with you." Dan started to protest but he waved him away, "No, I'd like to. You never stop talking about these siblings of yours and beside, I haven't been into town in so long. I really needn't be back before the ball, and that starts after dark. We could eat dinner in a tavern."

"You would do that, Your Highness?" Dan was genuinely surprised. After all, the royal family wasn't known for their interest in their subjects, especially not those who lived in the beggar's section of the village. The prince had seemed to listen when Dan told him of how Peter and Luke had gotten jobs, or how the twins, at eight, had started to read, but wanting to meet them all came to a whole other level of curiosity.

"Of course. I'm very partial towards you, Dan. I can see how happy your siblings make you, and how hard you work to keep them safe. I admire you for it and, if this isn't too forward of me, I consider you to be one of my closest friends."

"Your Highness-" Dan felt guilty of all the nights he had cursed the palace, cursed the people inside it, cursed the prince himself, even, for sticking him in this job. The pressures were too great, the work to risky. Only now did he realize that no one had bothered to find a replacement because the prince hadn't wanted one.

What an ungrateful brat he was.

"Phil. Please, how many times do I have to tell you, call me Phil." The corners of his mouth lifted, which seemed to be the only thing close to a smile Dan could ever pull from him. Phil grabbed his tunic from the back of the chair and pulled a cloak from the bureau, throwing it to Dan. "I've noticed," he said, as he pulled on his own garment, "that you do not have a cloak of your own. I, on the other hand, have many. You may keep the one I just gave you, no payment needed. With winter coming I wouldn't want you to get sick."

"Thank you, Phil." Dan pulled it on, trying not to gasp at how light the material felt against his skin. It was made of a cloth he couldn't identify, being that he himself didn't make the clothing. It wasn't the coarse wool he was used to, that was sure. It was smooth, but something that would obviously be very warm when needed. Loose and soft. The inside of the hood was lined with black fur.

Most nobility dressed for comfort, to show that they could. The peasants, such as Dan, would dress in tighter, more durable clothing, more likely brightly dyed to make up for the plainness. This cloak was an obvious mixture of both; strong, yet fashionable. Dyed a deep green like the ground underneath a tree, a color Dan wouldn't know so much as where to begin to look for.

This was a cloak of a prince, and he was only the pauper.

He latched the cloak (silver! Silver latches!) and looked over at Phil, who was waiting for him with an amused look on his face. Obviously, Dan hadn't done too well with hiding his surprise. However, the prince only gestured towards the door, and off they went.

? ﾟﾌﾙ?

A matching latch wasn't to be found, but Dan and Phil did find five new ones with crescent moons engraved in the front that were tarnished beautifully.

By the time they had bought what they needed it was noon. They stopped at the market and Phil picked up an apple to eat on the way to Dan's home. The latter declined any food, feeling to nervous to eat.

What would Phil think of his home? Heaven only knew it had been ages since Dan had forced the children to clean; hopefully Timothy had some control over the household. Agnes was constantly off at her suitor's home, so was often too busy to watch the younger ones. Dan had lost count of the number of times he had come home to find them still up, just then getting dinner started. In the middle of the night.

The long was long and silent. This didn't seem to bother the prince, who took in the low-roofed and dirty brown buildings with a look of pure awe. Dan struggled to see what he was so impressed by; the nicest thing about this part of the village were the flower beds in front of many of the houses, and even those were withered brown at this time of year.

Dan's home was set between a tavern and the church. To him, it had always looked as though someone had built those two and the house as an afterthought. The sides and top sunk in dangerously with wear, brown boards graying with age. There were only two windows, and the parchment used to cover them was barely hanging on. The garden was only a tangle of weeds and overgrowth; nothing but another part of the mess to make a scowl deepen.

Lowering his hood, Dan looked over at Phil. The prince didn't crinkle his nose at the ramshackle building; instead, he stepped onto the wobbly stones that made for a crude path and opened the door. Dan followed him closely.

Luke wasn't home, having left for his job at dawn, but Peter, a night worker, was stoking the fire. Timothy carried several pieces of wood in his arms, ready for his brother to grab, and next to him Phillip held an armful of sticks. His small chest was puffed out proudly.

The three older boys, Luke (eleven), Peter (twelve), and Timothy (fifteen) all looked like younger versions of Dan, who himself was eighteen. They all shared the same slightly curled oak-brown hair and muddy eyes, though their skin all went through varied shades of tan. Dan was the palest, as he worked indoors, but the younger two were olive skinned from hulling grains in the field. Timothy did odd jobs, so his coloring remained the natural tanned hue that their parents passed down. Like Phillip, they all had stick-like arms and legs from too little food but still towered over most others they met.

He introduced the three boys to Phil, who smiled at the little one especially. "Philip," he said, shaking his head. "What a wonderful name."

Dan chuckled nervously. "My parents were running out of things to call us by that one. There's also Agnes, who's probably at her suitor's house right now, and Alice. Er, where is Alice, exactly?"

"Right here!" A small voice squeaked. Dan turned just in time for his little sister to slam into him in a hug. "Why are you home so early? Who's that? Did you bring home any food? I'm _starving_."

She let go of him and went to join Philip by the fire. The two were twins, together since day one and virtually inseparable. They were the only two who never fought, a blessing as Dan had enough to deal with as it was, screaming kids being far, far off his list.

"My name is Phil," the prince said, another one of his small smiles forming on his lips. "Dan is one of my friends." Not _I'm one of Dan's_ , Dan noted. He had never given Phil confirmation on that, which made him feel absolutely horrid. Phil continued, "We were going to head to the tavern for lunch, and I'd love it if you could all join us. My treat."

The others cheered, running into the rooms they shared to get clothes to change into. Dan gritted his teeth and turned to Phil. "You don't have to, really." He whispered, looking around for his change box. "I can pay. I _can't_ owe you." He found it, sitting on the desk on the opposite wall, and started to reach for it.

Phil put a hand on his arm. Dan had never realized how intense his eyes were, like the green-blue water when it crashed against the ocean cliffs, until he was forced to meet them. "You won't have to owe me," he said in a measured voice. "I have the money and nothing to spend it on. I'm happy to pay, really."

Dan tried to look away, but the prince only lowered his head, as though in Dan's eyes were the secrets to everything and he refused to look away until he had learned them. "Really, Dan. I am."

Dan was never a pushover. He was naturally a stubborn person and very set in his ways. He would never lie, cheat, or scam. He would never break a law. He would raise his siblings best he could in honor of his parents. He would never owe anyone anything, because he of all people knew how easily that could be used against him.

And yet, he found himself agreeing.


	3. Chapter 3

They didn't arrive back at the castle until sunset. Phil had wanted to stay even longer, but Dan pulled him away from the chess board they had all set up before he could offer Phillip just _one more game_.

The twins had held onto the prince's legs, breaking all social barriers and begging him not to leave. Phil had knelt before them, giving Alice and Philip each a hug and promising to come back later. His eyes had met Dan's over his shoulder as he did so, as though to make sure that his words were true.

Dan would never have dreamed of stopping him.

Phil sent Dan off to find the maids, who applied the latch to the tunic with skilled hands. It wouldn't be as fancy or noble as the previous one, but, for the night, it would do.

The prince had already pulled on his trousers and boots by the time Dan, breathless from sprinting up the stairs, had come into the room. Dan threw the tunic to him. Phil caught it easily and pulled it over his head.

As all nobility, Phil wore the traditional color of purple. His pants were a simple black, which only made the lilac tunic seem more elegant. Around his waist he tied a string of gold. On Phil's head Dan placed a cap in the same color as the tunic, with a white feather that the prince complained tickled his nose. It was a simple outfit, as far as they went, but comfortable. That alone was a sign of his wealth.

The maids had given Dan his own clothing, a plain red wool tunic with a leather belt. The crown family's crest, an eagle with two swords on either side, was stamped in silver on the back. This wasn't for decoration-Dan would be a servant at the ball, nothing more or less. He would wait on the prince and be ready to work. With the crest, everyone would know this purpose and better than to bother him.

The halls were aflutter, servants dashing in and out with empty and full trays of food and wine. Some ball guests, obviously late, were making their way through the frenzy. It wasn't hard for Dan and Phil to push through; everyone stopped to bow and moved to the side to let their future king past.

He could tell Phil didn't think too much of it. After all, this was how he was raised. People served him, revered him. Phil was the next best thing to God from this ocean to the next.

Okay, third best thing. The king always came first.

Dan, however, couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. Normally, as a butler, he was in the background. Invisible to the fray. Now he could feel the eyes of just about everyone before and behind him. Their whispers hit him in the back, giving him a feeling akin to sleeping on a bed of nails.

 _Who's that?_

 _A butler, of course. Look at his tunic._

 _His hair, too! Filthy, honestly. Where was he, rolling with the pigs all day?_

 _Must be from the slums. Lucky he could get a job anywhere. Much less one here, in the palace. He should be dead by now._

 _He will be soon. Did you hear about what happened to the last one?_

 _Last one?_

 _The last butler of course! Well, I hear he got a little too close to think prince..._

 _No!_

 _Yes._

 _Well, I heard..._

I hear. I think. I see. Look at.

The same words that followed him everywhere now trailed him again. The clamor soon started up again, when it was respectful and the prince had passed, but Dan still knew what they were thinking.

I heard.

I saw.

I know the prince has picked up another peasant.

They entered the ballroom. On the walls, covered from top to bottom with full gold and lined with Greek-style columns, were hundreds of frescoes done by the kingdom's finest painters. Through glass-plated windows on one wall the constellations shone, surrounding the silver moon more beautifully than any artist could ever capture, in words or paint. From the ceiling candle-covered chandeliers hung, the only source of light in the room. Someone had covered the candles with something to hue their light blue, a symbol of peace and unity. Fully appropriate, as this would be the first meeting between Phil and his future queen.

The princess herself was not hard to see. With the dark braids curled at the side of her head and the small tiara with a single purple gem that lay against her forehead, the lady was easily identifiable as royalty. Her dress was a soft yellow (optimism, loyalty, joy), with sleeves that trailed a good foot under her wrists.

Her face was not the prettiest Dan had ever seen, but one of the most regal. A long nose, with sharp green eyes that seemed to take in everything, and pale skin, cheeks barely flushed.

She was so obviously born to be queen.

She and Phil met eyes across the room. With sudden, sweeping steps Dan found hard to keep up with, the prince met the lady on the other side. He bowed deeply, never taking his eyes off hers.

Dan, having been in contact with that gaze himself, knew how hard it was to bear. Yet the princess held his gaze with a calculating one of her own, not pulling away until the song ended. Then, she turned to one of her maids with a slight smile on her face.

Phil motioned for the rest of the couples to starts dancing. The room became a rainbow of skirts and tailcoats and makeup. The band started to play a lively tune, forcing the dancers to move quicker than Dan could've ever done himself. He found his heartbeat bolting whenever a woman was spun off the edge of her partner's arm, skirt twisting around her body until it seemed she would trip.

But no one did, and the dancing continued.

Dan crossed through the crowd to the prince, who greeted him by putting an arm around his neck. "Isn't this fun?" He said brightly. "Look at all the people."

Dan smiled. "It's wonderful, sir," he said, "what do you think of the princess?"

"What do I think? She's beautiful, I suppose. But we haven't actually exchanged any words yet, so as far as I'm concerned beauty is the only trait she poses. Sounds vain, but," Phil shrugged, "that's really what these marriages are based off anyways, aren't they?"

"Wealth, too," Dan offered. "Power. Age and proximity to the crown."

Phil gave a bitter laugh. "That's true, of course. It doesn't matter if I don't feel love for her. It doesn't matter if she or I have feeling for someone else. Especially not if it's for someone of the same gender. That simply doesn't happen."

"Sir...?"

"But love is a pleasant thing. Nothing I can afford, if I am to be a good king."

Dan blinked. "This is all in theory, I presume?"

He didn't doubt that Phil could have feelings for someone besides the princess. But he was right that love was a peasant's thing.

Even most non-royalty would marry based on who their parents chose, usually with a beautiful girl marrying up a social class. This would bring both her and her family more money. Men would try and find a woman who was beautiful and who carried a good sum of money or a fair bargain as a dowry. If a wife or husband died, convenience was always the next option. It took two to raise a family.

But for Dan, he was so low on every scale that the only thing he could hope for would be to die young or manage to woo a girl. Looks and class aside, anyone would have to do.

It was better than dying alone any day.

Still, when he found himself daydreaming about raising a family (a rare thing, usually stemming from wishing for less rowdy children to take care of), it was Phil he couldn't help but see. After all, he had been so kind with Dan's siblings. And Phil was the first person Dan had ever been close to.

But he was a boy, and it would never work. For several reasons.

Number one: how could they have children? It would be impossible, and that had always been Dan's dream, his greatest hope for the future. Not to raise his siblings, but to have his own children. To love them and watch them grow, not his brothers and sisters.

Number two: boys can't love boys. It's simply not done; everyone knows that. There were cases, of course, but those always ended in despair for both sides. It was not how God made humans to live.

Though, in some areas it was a common practice for a man to marry a man. Of course, there was usually a woman with them to fulfill the need of children, which Dan knew he would be hard-pressed to find.

And why was he even considering this? It did nothing. It meant nothing. It changed nothing.

Phil chewed on his lip, as though a similar debate was going through his own mind. Or, at the very least, one just as complicated.

"You're staying overnight, correct?" He asked finally.

Dan nodded. It would be the middle of the night before the ball ended, leaving it useless for Dan to try and head for home. Not only that, but dangerous. The street belonged to thieves at night.

"Then meet me in the gardens after the ball." Phil said, more of a plea than an order. "You are dismissed for the night, otherwise. Maybe go pay my sister a visit; I'm thinking of making you her official tutor. Keep you around."

"That would be-" Dan started, but the prince was already walking away.

Daniella wasn't hard to find. She was standing outside the ballroom door, peeking her head around the corner to watch what was going on inside.

He gave her an amused smile and she returned it with her own guilty one. "C'mon," Dan said, holding out an arm to her. "Your brother sent me to entertain you. Let's go to the nursery."

She nodded, gesturing for him to lift her on his back, as was her favorite form of transfer. Dan rolled his eyes jokingly and hoisted her onto his shoulders, making sure that only the guards (who were watching them boredly) populated the halls before sprinting on.

? ﾟﾌﾙ?

Dan finished lighting the candles and blew out the match. The room was far from well lit without sunlight streaming through the windows, but it would have to do. He sensed the princess wouldn't be awake for much longer anyways from the way that her breaths were beginning to even out.

She sat herself next to a candle, seeming mesmerized by the way the flame twisted like a dancer against the dark corners of the room. Dan chuckled at her curiosity and wiggled his fingers over the fire to show how it moved.

"It's beautiful," she whispered, touching a drip of wax with her finger. Daniella's hand jerked back in a silent protest, but she didn't cry out.

Dan guessed that she didn't see a great too many precious things in her life.

"What do you think of the princess?" Dan asked her. He had found it easy to get the princess to open up and speak. All it took was a gentle voice and a smile, and possibly a few treats stolen from the kitchen every so often.

The girl shrugged, not taking her eyes of the candle. "She seems smart. Pretty powerful, too. And I suppose she's nice enough looking, but I've seen prettier. Trees, flowers, this candle. They're pretty because they're natural; she seems manufactured, somehow."

"How could you possibly guess all this?"

"Her eyes. And I heard her talking to her maids some, too. I've been told I'm a good judge of character, whatever that means."

Dan had to agree. Quiet people, he had learned, were often watchers. They waited for things to happen, gauged the situation, and acted accordingly. Being a butler had forced him to become one himself.

Daniella leaned against him, her brown hair feeling like spider legs on his arm. "I don't want to be a princess," she whispered, eyes slipping shut. "I wish I were a boy. I wish I didn't have to marry someone just to make my father rich."

"I know," he whispered, rubbing her back comfortingly. "But you'll make a wonderful queen. You'll marry someone rich and powerful who can keep you happy for the rest of your days. All of your people will love you."

But his sympathies didn't matter, for the princess was already lost to the world.


	4. Chapter 4

**this will be a shorter chapter but it's kind of really important so yeah um hope you like this one. very much cannon.**

Dan lifted the princess from where she was curled up in front of the candle and carried her out of the room. He wasn't worried about putting out any of the lights; the night servants would do that later.

He stepped outside, stopping to let his eyes adjust to the dimness of the corridor.

The regular hubbub of the castle had been replaced with a smooth silence. Though shadows danced across the walls, Dan was smart enough to recognize that they simply came from the lights.

Few were awake at this hour, besides the night guards. Most days one would be expected to carry a single candle for light, so as not to waste wax. Dan suspected Phil had told the servants to keep the candles lit so that it would be easier to see.

He dropped the princess off in her room, where the nanny put her to bed. Somehow, they managed not to wake Daniella up during the transfer.

Dan made his way through the castle, knowing which way to go only by which passageways were filled with candles. The ones that weren't lit were eerily dark. The moon was covered by clouds, leaving the empty spaces filled with an inky blackness so thick that even glancing at it sent shivers down Dan's spine.

Normally he considered himself to be more logical than average, too knowledgeable to believe in the silly myths of devils and witches. And yet, when the lights were dimmed and the sun slept...it was hard not to worry about what might be hidden around the corner.

The wind started to bite at Dan's face the moment he stepped out the door. He shivered, wishing he had thought to grab the cloak Phil had given him.

Outside, the stars gave off a faint light. The moon came out from behind the cloud and pooled around the garden, illuminating the frost-covered flowers and giving everything a strange sort of glow.

Dan could see the outline of a tall, skinny figure standing under a leafless tree. The figure raised his hand in acknowledgement, beckoning Dan to his side.

He couldn't help but feel uneasy as he made his way over. They were in plain view of the bedrooms; if anyone looked out and saw them, it would be hard to explain what the prince was doing in the garden past nightfall. Even harder to explain why the prince was joined by his butler.

Phil's smile was barely visible in the dark. He seemed nervous, hands tapping against his leg nervously. "Hello, Dan," he greeted, "I was wondering if you'd actually come."

The prince had changed into a simple black tunic and pants. Dan supposed it was a wise move; that way, anyone would be hard-pressed to see him. He only wished he had thought to do that same.

He was sure it wouldn't matter any; the lights were beginning to go out, as visible through the windows. Only a few servants could be seen moving about inside. Any sane person, much less a member or guest of the royal family, would be long asleep by now.

"I said I would."

The words fell into the air. Dan could almost imagine the crash as they hit the grass booming through the silence.

Phil coughed into his fist. "I suppose," he said, drawing out the vowel, "you'd like to know what I was talking about earlier. And why I asked you here tonight."

"That would be nice."

"Dan..." The prince shook his head, running a hand through his dark hair. "Do you know why my father ordered my last butler to be killed?"

Dan guessed the question to be rhetoric. After all, no one had so much as been allowed to attend the execution.

Sure enough, Phil didn't wait for an answer before continuing. "His name was Carlton. He had sun-blond hair and eyes so blue that when I looked in them I felt like I was drowning."

Dan knew the feeling.

"He had been my butler since we were both thirteen. He was also my best friend. Servants...well, we aren't supposed to get close to them. That's always been my worst mistake. My father's, too; just look at Daniella. So when he saw how much I cared for Carlton..."

"He killed him." Dan whispered, barely able to breath through the sudden pain in his chest.

The king wasn't well known for his kindness and generosity. He rarely left his study, instead choosing to take his meals in his room. There were legends as to why, of course. Some said his face was horribly deformed from a hunting accident, leaving him too ashamed to be see by anyone other than his usual butlers and servants. Others thought he was so paranoid of being assassinated that he was glued to his bed with fear.

Whatever the reason, it was commonly known that the kingdom was run mainly by a group of corrupt advisers. All the king did was order or sign orders for needless executions and host balls he didn't even attend.

Phil nodded. "Since then, you may have noticed, many have avoided the position as my butler. I didn't expect them to find anyone new for the job that I would actually enjoy the company of. The few men that did try out the job I pushed away to the point where they all quit. I think a week was the longest any could hold out for.

"And then, one day you pop into my life, with your little brown curls and ironic comments and I find myself drowning again. Not in blue, but in brown. In mud that makes me cough and cry and unable to breath because I just know how this is going to end. But, through it all, I just want you to stay. Since Carlton, you're the first person I've ever wanted to stay."

"I would never leave you."

The words were out before Dan could think to stop them.

Now, knowing Phil's history, he knew what he should do. What he had to do, really-turn away. End this conversation where it lay and let all the unsaid words die. They needn't be spoken. He should go to the head butler and resign. Leave this palace and Daniella and his house, because of that goddamn tavern next to it, and everything that would ever remind him of the prince and run. Take his siblings, and run.

That had always been his reason for living. His reason for being able to gather up the will to go on. He had to keep his siblings alive.

But he didn't, because Dan saw how much pain was in Phil's eyes, and felt how much pain he carried himself. Because he couldn't imagine a life without this boy in it, even after only two short months. Because all of a sudden Phil was kissing him, they way a boy should kiss a girl and a girl should kiss a boy, but also how a boy now kissed him. And because in that moment, Phil wasn't the prince and Dan wasn't the butler. They were just two boys together on the lawn, where ice was turning their ears red and dew was soaking through their boots. Boys who just so happened to have a relationship that went past server and servee.

They pulled apart with wide grins, forgetting for a moment just how horrible this situation truly was. Both were blissfully unaware of the man who had been watching them through it all.


	5. Chapter 5

**i just realized this will be exactly ten chapters and that makes me happy**

The world as Dan knew it dissolved into hell the moment he heard Phillip cough.

It had happened one day after he and Phil had kissed. Dan remembered it like a book he had read over and over, and knew it would be that way for the rest of his life.

He had gotten home at midnight, as per usual. His siblings had all been asleep, even Agnes. Dan had been too tired to do anything more than collapse on the pile of blankets he called a bed, eyes already slipping closed when the horrible hacking began to resound around the small room all the boys shared.

Once. Twice. Three times.

Loud enough for Timothy to open his eyes. (Though Dan suspected he had been out all night with Jason and was just pretending to be asleep anyways.)

The other two boys were still asleep, so Dan tried to keep the noise to a minimum as he made his way over to his little brother. Phillip looked up at him guiltily, covering his mouth with his elbow to mask some of the noise. It was like trying to walk through the rain with only half a jacket.

"Are you alright?" Dan asked his brother, patting him on the back. He was wary of getting whatever Phillip was coming down with, of course, but if it was anything too deadly, odds were it was in everyone's systems already.

He shook his head, cheeks filling with air as he attempted to hold back another fit. "I haven't been feeling well lately," he admitted. "I'm dizzy. My head hurts really bad."

Dan swore under his breath and grabbed his own blanket. He folded it until it became a crude sort of pillow and gently lifted his brother's head, brushing Phillip's matted brown hair out of his eyes. "Just rest, Phillip, okay? Rest and get better. I'll go get you some water."

He did his best not to sprint out of the room. In the hallway, Agnes waited for him. "What's wrong?" She asked, hugging herself as a feeble protection from the cold.

Dan rubbed a hand over his eyes, feeling impossibly tired. The day had been long, and all he had been dreaming about was coming home to sleep. He knew that now he would be up all night, whether because he was taking care of his brother or fretting to the point of insomnia.

"Phillip is sick," he whispered, well aware that it was useless at this point. Eight wide eyes watched from the shadows. "He...well, it's kind of like Margery. The girl who used to live close by. It's got me worried, Agnes."

Margery had been a small, excitable girl from a relatively well-to-do-family. She had been sixteen, just a week away from getting married when the fever started. Margery had fallen into a deep sleep, one no one could seem to wake her from. Only two weeks after she had fallen ill the burial took place.

Even two years later there was still mystery surrounding her death. How had she taken ill? Was it a witch's curse? The devil himself? A punishment from God?

No one could quite agree, but the whole village knew one thing: her death was only the first of many.

Since then, there had been a house-turned-hospital filled just with people who experienced symptoms similar to Margery's. Fever, chills, headaches. Coughing and rashes. Delirium. Some survived the disease, but a majority ended up on their way to the graveyard.

If there was anything Dan knew, it was that a house full of sick people wasn't a place for one to get better. It was a place someone sent you to die.

Agnes took a step closer to him, radiating hostility. "You don't think we know he's dying? The coughing started a week ago, maybe two. If you had been home instead of gallivanting with the royal family you would know!"

"Two...Two weeks and you haven't done anything? For God's sake, Agnes, we could all be dead by now with that stupidity!"

"What are we supposed to do? Send he and Alice off to die?" She jabbed her finger into his chest. "That's not how a family works, Daniel! We stick together, we die together."

"Then you'll understand why I've been at the palace, trying to make sure that doesn't happen!" His voice dropped to a whimper as he thought of what the coming weeks could bring. "Dammit, Ag. We need more money. I wish we could pay for treatments, but...We just need more money."

Dan's knees felt weak; he thought he would collapse right there but willed himself to remain upright. He was the head of the household. He had to be strong, even when he only wanted to curl into a ball and cry.

He stormed outside, grabbing the bucket they used to collect rainwater from the garden. It had a little bit of dirt in the bottom, but was generally cleaner than anything they could get from the well or river.

Dan went back in and kneeled by Phillip, gently pressing the lip of the bucket against his mouth. "Drink," he urged, letting a few drops slide out.

His brother opened his mouth weakly, just enough for a few sips to go down his throat before another coughing fit racked his body. Water and spittle sprayed against Dan's shirt, but he ignored it. "Try again," he urged.

? ﾟﾌﾙ?

"Phillip, your brother is here to see you."

The nun gave Dan a sympathetic look as she propped Phillip's head up using more pillows. His brother groaned, shaking his head. As if it were a signal, the nurse lifted a small bucket. Phillip threw up into it with a small whimper.

His brother had always been a slight child, skinny and far shorter than the rest of the family, but now he was barely recognizable from a skeleton. His cheekbones were more prominent than ever, sticking out from his skin like bread from soup. His skin had lost its smooth tan and had faded to a yellow like that of a weed flower.

"How's Alice?" Phillip whispered through parched lips. Dan lifted the small pitcher of water he had brought with him and helped his brother take a sip. His brother couldn't even muster up a grateful smile, which broke Dan's heart.

The world had stolen so much from him already. His father, mother. His childhood. His ability to laugh and think positively, those all came and went so long ago. Even worse than taking things Dan did love was taking things he could've-Phil's smile. The sparkles in his sibling's eyes when they learned something new. The pride of marrying a girl and raising his own family. The feeling of falling in love with his wife. The idea that there will be a tomorrow, and tomorrow is another day to fix whatever mess you're in.

To Dan, it would just be another nail on the bed that life had provided him. But to his brother, this would be the last thing. The last and final and worst thing, the sword that would take him down. And the fact that Dan could do nothing, absolutely zero, to protect him from this was tearing him apart.

So instead, he lied to sharpen the blade. "She's alright, Phillip." Better than you are, really. "I've no doubt she'll be up and moving soon-we've been giving her extra food to keep up her strength." The only food in the house, the bare minimum, crumbs even the rats wouldn't eat went to her. And yet, each day Alice began to look more and more like a corpse. "I think she'll be just fine. And you will, too, if you rest."

Phillip was not going to be fine.

As his brother slipped into a deep sleep, Dan knew it would be useless to visit any more. Phillip was never opening his eyes again.

? ﾟﾌﾙ?

Dan looked in every way like someone who was asleep. His breath was even, his eyes were close. Every so often he snored a little. In reality, he was more awake than he had ever been. It was as though someone had pushed him into a puddle. One that was in the middle of the road while a horse was careening towards him.

He would not miss a thing tonight.

Which was why, by the time the stars were at their brightest, he opened his eyes the second Luke whispered his name from across the room.

Dan sat up, pretending to stretch before making his way over to his brother. "Yes?" He whispered quietly, sitting beside him.

"I think I heard someone. In the girls' room, I mean."

"Don't worry." Dan mused Luke's hair with a calm smile, trying not to show just how jittery he was feeling. "I'll go check it out. You stay here, yeah?"

Doing his best not to step on anyone's head, feet, or hands in the dark (something Dan had become exceptionally skilled at through the years), he walked down the short hallway. There, a figure stood, holding a much smaller girl.

Phil set Alice down gently and flew into Dan's arms. "I'm so sorry," he breathed, the loudest either of them would be able to talk until they met again at the palace. "I know how much you loved him, Dan. I just-I wish I could've saved him."

"It's okay," Dan leaned his forehead against Phil's, feeling the prince's breath tickle his cheek. "I mean, not that he died. I don't think it'll ever be okay, in my mind at least, but it's not your fault. And you're going to help Alice. That's all I care about right now."

Phil nodded, reluctantly pulling away. "I have a priest coming in in the morning to bless her. And the castle's doctor will check her over; I'll just say she's a servant girl who helps you. We have so many spare rooms that she could stay in, too. Maybe she could be Daniella's official maid. And I-"

"Phil." Dan shook his head, unable to push away a smile at the prince's nervousness. "It'll be alright. No one would dare question you."

"You make me sound like my father when you say that."

"Your father is an important man. So are you." Dan could see that Phil was upset; he would never go into exact details as to why he despised his father so, but Dan knew it went deeper than familial distrust. "But that is where the similarities stop. He would never do this for anyone, much less someone like me."

"I find that hard to believe. If you care enough about someone, you would do anything for them. Even if it meant losing some skin yourself."

Dan glanced over at Alice, glad to find her fast asleep. It would be hard to explain to her what was happening, and nearly impossible to get her to keep her mouth shut about it all.

"And I do," Phil coughed into his fist. Not in a sick way, though it did make Dan's heart race at first. "Care about you, I mean."

Even through the dark, Dan knew the prince was blushing.

"Phil-"

"I'm sorry." He waved Dan away, "This is not the time nor place for that conversation. It's too dangerous. It's just...seeing how much death has surrounded you lately has made me fear for your safety. I-I don't want to lose you, Dan."

Phil wrapped his arms around Dan, holding him like the world would fall apart if he pulled away.

But he did, and the only thing that broke was Dan's heart, just a little when he looked up into those beautiful blue eyes that could never be his.

Dan waved a silent goodbye and watched the prince fade into the night.

 **don't worry-sharpening a blade is actually a nice thing to do when someone is about to get stabbed with it**


	6. Chapter 6

It had been night. So late, he had been sure he was the only one still awake. After all, everyone else in the palace would be tired from dancing. He was tired, too, for other reasons. But the stars had been so bright that night, so beautiful that it was impossible not to feel like they shined just for him.

At first he had thought the shadows in the garden were thieves. But no; they moved to freely for that. Without the same stealth. They were definitely servants of some sort, inhabitants of the castle. After all, the gates were closed at night, blocking anyone else from getting into the green area.

They were tall. Male, most likely, based on the lack of dresses. One had slightly lighter hair and clothing. The family's crest shone in the moonlight on his back. The other stood straighter, more confidently. Confident even as he leaned forward and connect his lips to the servant's.

It was that kiss that played in his head, on repeat for days.

One was a servant. That was obvious. Not only with the crest, but the willingness to become another toy.

A toy of the second. The prince, his son. His son, whom he he was sure had been finished with these shenanigans after what happened to the last one. The butler, Carlton, who he had so foolishly believed himself to be in love with.

This time, he would just have to press the idea away with a little more force.

But first, he had to find out the second identity.

? ﾟﾌﾙ?

Dan opened the door to the prince's room. He hadn't slept for three days, since Phillip had died. His arms felt like they were tied to his sides with weariness, and he knew that under his eyes were purple crescents darker than the night.

Phil was in his sitting room with the princess. The two each held a cup of some steaming drink, looking anywhere but at each other.

"Good morning," Dan chirped, grabbing some clothes from the bureau. "I hope you slept well, Your Highness. And," he handed the garments to Phil and bowed before the princess, "the same goes for you, my lady."

"Your servant speaks towards you so casually?" The future queen peered at him over her mug. "I would have to cut the tongue of my own out, I'm afraid. Their voices would get far too annoying after a while."

"Merabeth," Phil said sharply, pushing the clothes away from him and onto the table. Dan could see a purple mark on his wrist, possibly a bruise from a hunting accident. "That is enough. I appreciate your visit this morning, but for now you are dismissed."

She scoffed, brushing her long hair off her shoulder in one sweeping movement. When she stood Dan could see that she was already dressed for the day, in a long green gown that swept against the floor with every move.

The door closed behind her, so forcefully Dan couldn't hold back a flinch. He turned around to face the prince again, smile slipping from his face. It was impossible to hold it when Phil was giving him such a sorrowful look.

"What's wrong?" He asked, taking Phil's hands in his own. They had started to become distinctly more comfortable doing little things like that with each other. During the day, when both were certain no one was looking, they would steal small pecks on the cheek or forehead, or dance in the corner of the room while the troubadours sang of the greatest love stories ever told.

The prince's eyes dropped down to their interlocked hands and gnawed on his lip. "Why are you here, Daniel?" He asked, fingers twitching as though to pull away. Instead, Phil's grip only tightened, heart rebelling against mind.

 _Oh no_.

Phil only called Dan by his full name when...well, actually he didn't. Ever. Even on the very first day they met, the prince only called him by his preferred name. Probably more than Dan deserved, with all the "Sir"s and "You Highness"s that tended to slip out of his tripping mouth.

"Because it's my job?" He said, taking the leap and pulling away from Phil. "Because," he forced himself to sound a little more confident, leveling out his chin and meeting those icy eyes. "Because you requested I stay, and because you said you wanted me to."

"You were fired yesterday."

The prince delivered the fatal blow with pity in his eyes. As if it could lessen the pain, Phil leaned forward and gave Dan a small kiss on the temple. The familiar gesture was one filled with remorse and love and maybe, just maybe, a little bit of hope that everything could still be repaired.

"Why?" Dan asked, not in the mood for romantics. "Phil, if you're uncomfortable with...us, whatever this is, I can stop. We can pretend like it never happened and move on. You're getting married soon and I could always stand to focus on my brothers and sisters. It's been tense since Phillip...well, you know. And I could find more ways to teach Daniella and Alice. It doesn't have to be this way."

"Dan-"

"I swear to God, Phil, please!" Tears streaked down Dan's face.

After coming home night after night to silence, weary from work and still not able to sleep just yet. After spending so many nights with his stomach feeling like it was trying to eat itself from the inside out from hunger. After watching his siblings cry and beg because there just wasn't enough money, and without money there wasn't enough food to even last them through the day.

After so long suffering and working hard just for a glimpse of light, he had let his feelings ruin everything.

Phil put his hands on Dan's shoulders. "Dan. I'm doing the best I can here. You have to believe me, love, I don't want you to go."

"I am _not_ your love." Dan hissed. As much as he wished it would be that way, he was sure both of them knew it could never be.

"Love. I love you, so that makes you my love."

He couldn't respond. Phil had a way of doing that. He had words that could make Dan feel happy, even after Phillip died. Words that could make him feel like he was falling to hell, and words that just made him fall in love all over again. And then he had times like these, where he went and said something, anything, so simply and so logically that there was nothing to do but agree.

"Why?" Dan hated how much he sounded like a toddler, clinging to his mother's skirt and asking for seconds. "Why does this have to happen at all?"

"It's my father."

Of course. In some way, it was always the king.

It was always the king in the fact that Dan was poor, because the king was a pushover and let his advisers tax citizens to the point where there was even money for food or rent. It was the king in the fact that Dan's parents and now Phillip had died, for making all the good doctors work only for the palace and letting his citizens live in disease-ridden cities.

It was the king who could be blamed for every sorrow, every misfortune to ever fall on Dan and his family. And that was why Phil was nothing like him, and would never be.

Phil sat on the couch, pulling Dan down next to him. He leaned his head Dan's shoulder, overlapping their hands. "Apparently he saw us together, in the garden. It took him a few days to figure out that it was you, but when he did...well, you can imagine how pissed he was. I did my best to lessen the blow for you. Believe me, Dan, it could've been a lot worse. You could be in the jail cells right now, waiting for the man in the black mask to come for you. But your family needs you. I, well, it's no secret by now that I need you."

"You don't need me," Dan whispered. "You moved on from Carlton. I'll just be another pawn lost in your game. But it doesn't matter, because soon you'll take the queen and the king will check out and you'll have everything."

"I won't have you." Phil wiped away a tear that was making its way down Dan's face, ignoring his own. "I'd rather be a peasant, living in the dirt and mud and in a constant state of starving for the rest of my life than live one day without you. Imagine how much pain I would be in, then, to be in the audience of me and my family and see you dragged out. Thrown to the ground, brown dirt rising around you and blinding you for a moment. And then they would stick your head in the guillotine stocks and your eyes would meet mine, just for a second, before the blade comes down and I close my eyes because I don't want to see what comes next.

"You know what the worst part is? I wasn't even in love with Carlton. He was just my friend, a really close one. My father was just too paranoid and too careless with his life to even care. After all, what would it matter to him? One servant versus the...I don't even know, sanity of his son."

"Oh, Phil." Dan wrapped his arms around his back. The prince flinched and he moved them to his neck. Phil gathered the fabric of his tunic in his fist and held onto the wool like an anchor to the seafloor. He suspected that Phil wasn't going based on his imagination by this point; it was real, and he was reliving the death of his best friend.

"How did you do it?" He asked, once the prince had calmed down. "I thought the king was a mule when it came to his decisions."

"He is." Phil didn't so much as chuckle at Dan's words. In fact, he only seemed more upset. "And what physical pain I was able to lift from you I took on myself. It was well worth it, but I'm afraid now you will only suffer more. And how are we supposed to see each other now? We can't gallivant around town; that would be suicide for us both. And without you always in the palace, how could we even arrange any meetings?"

Dan pushed the last thoughts away; those were things they could figure out. If Dan could find another job before he starved to death, at least. However... "What do you mean, you took on the pain?"

He sat up, forcing Phil to move his weight from off him. The prince shook his head, obviously holding back more tears. "I-I can't, Dan. I don't want to make you any more upset."

"Just you saying that means you've automatically failed. I am very much upset, Phil. Now tell me."

The prince, hesitantly, moved on the couch so that Dan was facing his back. Taking the hem of his tunic in shaking fingers, he lifted it slightly so that Dan could see his back.

Phil's normally pale, smooth skin was marred with long red gashes, the edges of which were tinged purple. His whole back was covered in them; in some places, the cuts overlapped painfully.

"It's not so bad, really." Phil looked back at him over his shoulder. "It kind of hurts with the fabric against it, but I just remember what would've happened otherwise and it kind of helps. This will last for a while, to be sure, but death...death is permanent. Your death would've hurt far, far more."

"I'm not worth this." Dan moved his hand over Phil's back, hoping the whispers of his touch wouldn't cause him any pain.

"Maybe not to him. The king, the man who calls himself my father. But you are to me. To me, you are the sun and the moon and the stars and I would take a hundred lashes to spare you just one."

Dan wished he had been given the chance to prove the same.


	7. Chapter 7

One would think that, having been fired from a position as prestigious as the prince's butler, Dan would have no trouble finding a job whatsoever. However, the opposite seemed to be true. Falling from the top seemed to have only sunk him deeper into the pits of mud at the bottom, and no one was willing to pull him out. And those that were (though few and far between) couldn't afford to.

His siblings were all doing their best to pitch in, he knew. Peter and Luke each picked up double shifts, stumbling in at early hours in the morning with sore feet from repairing roads. They didn't bring in much income, either, as it was a job one would normally have to earn a little extra cash. Not to live off of. Still, Dan appreciated their efforts and made sure to heat up warm water throughout the day so they could soak their feet.

The one who brought the most money, somehow, was Agnes. At first she had started taking some from her dowry, but Dan had quickly put a stop to it. He repaid her back with the precious few coins Phil had been able to give him. He wasn't about to let her ruin her chance for marriage just because of his screw-up.

And so she had found other ways. She would never tell them how, exactly, but whatever it was worked. Their stomachs still rumbled, but not so much that Dan feared his family wouldn't survive to the next day.

Still, Dan knew this couldn't last. The list of jobs a woman could have was short; a queen or community leader, mother/wife, nun, or artisan. Having known Agnes her whole life, Dan knew she had no skill with a brush whatsoever. So wasn't adorable and pitiful like Alice, either.

However she was getting money couldn't be anything safe or good. Dan needed to find a job, a real job, soon.

No one else was going to get hurt because of him.

He set the rag on top of the fireplace, pulling the pot of water out of the flames. Luke should be home in about half an hour, which was just enough time for the pot to cool down so it would be ready for him.

Dan knew several elders who had had similar aches in their feet when they were younger and weary from a long day's work. Now, a good deal of them could barely stand on their own. They were bedridden with pain, forcing their grandchildren to take care of them.

Like hell if he was going to let that happen to his brothers.

Dan heard a knock of the door and looked up. No one came to the house unless they were lost, and even then it was such a small town, and the building was so hostile, that they preferred to ask the tavern owners instead.

He figured one of his brothers had probably left their keys somewhere. Hopefully just in the house; anywhere else and some drunk could pick them up. There wasn't enough money to hire the locksmith to make a new clasp.

He wiped his hands on his trousers and stood, crossing over to the door.

The one who had been knocking was a woman almost as tall as him, with chestnut hair and a maid's uniform. She carried a wicker basket in her hands, full to the brim with fruits and bread. She smiled brightly at him, taking one hand off the handle doing a wobbly curtsy. The arm holding the basket sunk noticeably.

"Lucy Trays," she greeted, blowing a loose curl from her eyes. "Would you be a Mister Daniel? The palace sent me."

"The palace..." Dan looked her over warily. She didn't seem like the type they would send to make arrests; her arms were thin and weak-looking, hence why she was barely able to hold the food. And the king wasn't the type to set up a trap so cleverly. He preferred to make a commotion, and this would be a perfect opportunity to show his power.

"Yes," he said with a nod. "I'm Dan. May I ask why you're here? Is there a problem?"

"Not unless you consider getting your job back a problem." She elbowed him lightly, eyes sparkling. Why had he never met anyone like this while working at the palace? Had he simply been searching in all the wrong places? "The prince managed to convince the king to keep you back on. Nasty business, really. Yelling, crying. You must mean a lot to the bloke."

"We're very close," Dan agreed shortly. "Is Phil...Is the prince alright? Did the king hurt him at all? I know-I heard he can be a little rough. With his son, I mean."

Lucy's expression darkened. "I think the young prince may have taken some lashes himself, Mister Daniel. I work for the washers as well as the kitchen. Everywhere, really, just doing odd jobs. A shirt came in with some blood on it. No one would say who, and I've seen this happen before. With a maid or butler or servant it would be no big deal, you see, beyond gossip. But this was a nice shirt, velvet and pretty. No one of our stature would've been able to afford it, I'm sure."

A lot of the palace servants opted to live at the castle, visiting family during the short allotted break periods and sending home money via the mail. It was cheaper and easier, especially for those who lived further away. However, disease was often a major part of their lives at the palace, living in such small quarters. That and violence made it one of the least pleasant places a person could possibly live. Despite this, so many lived there that it had become a common practice to have the servants wash both the royal family's clothing and other workers.

"I-I'm sorry to hear that, Lucy. And you may call me Dan, if you'd like. Should I return to work tomorrow, then? Is there anything else I have to know?"

The maid beamed at him, once again like a chipper little pet. "Alright, _Dan_. The prince said he'd like you to start working again today. Probably to get him ready for dinner, reconnect and such. You can walk back with me, if you'd like."

"I would love that."

? ﾟﾌﾙ?

Dan looked up at the two guards who were placed by the door. They sneered at him, an attempt that naturally failed when he towered at least a foot above them both.

He only knocked once before the prince grabbed his wrist and pulled him inside, close the door behind him just as quickly and suddenly. "You did it," Dan said, burying his face in Phil's shoulder. "Why the hell would you do it? I told you I'm not worth the pain. And what will your queen think when she sees the scars? How in the world are you supposed to explain those to her?"

"She doesn't need to know anything." The prince met his eyes with a smile. Not just the slightly turned lips Dan was accustomed to-a smile. A crescent that made him able to fully visualize _grinning ear to ear_. "I'm sure she doesn't really care, either. We talked about it for a little bit-"

"It?"

"Our marriage. She said she didn't expect any love or friendship between the two of us, but hoped there could at least be comrades. Kind to each other." It shouldn't be hard, Dan figured, it was nearly impossible to imagine Phil being rude to anyone. "And she told me that, sometime during her visit here, she had fallen for someone."

"Oh?"

"Yes. A guard. I didn't tell her about you, but I made it very clear that I was fine with her situation. Which could possibly come in handy for the future."

It really was a stroke of luck. After all, the princess couldn't expect Phil to be fully loyal when she herself wasn't. Although Dan did wonder who the guard was. Most of them seemed to cold and calculating, cruel, almost, for anyone to love them. As visible workers, however, they were expected to be relatively handsome, so he supposed that could be the cause of her feelings.

She was very brave to tell Phil about her feelings. Most other future queens would be expected to be fully loyal, no matter what their king did. Coming forward with something like that would mean imprisonment or banishment, in many cases. If not death.

When he told Phil, the prince shrugged. He appeared to be more than a little uncomfortable. "She probably wanted to clear the air," he guessed, "before the wedding next week."

"Next week? Phil, what do you mean 'next week'?"

Dan had that this was coming from the very moment he saw the future rulers dancing together during the ball. Before then, even, when he was only a servant listening to rumors. Logical rumors. But back then it hadn't mattered to him; it would only be another day of work, the wedding. Another thing to clean up afterwards.

But back then, he hadn't known Phil. He hadn't cared about him or anything, anything but making it through the day without starving to death.

He should've known right from the star. Phil was the sun, and he was only the moon. They could never be together.

? ﾟﾌﾙ?

"Hey you." Dan scooped Alice into his arms, hugging her tightly for a second before gently lowering her to the floor. "You look like you're doing well."

And she did. His sister's cheeks were noticeably plumper, as though she had had a decent meal for once in her life. Her hair, glossy and long, was pulled back by a little red ribbon. Her dress, the same color as her ribbon, was simple, obviously meant for a worker, but he could tell she took good care of it.

Phil had told Dan that his sister had been doing well, but that was an understatement. There was no sign of the sickness in her; her skin practically glowed with health.

She and Daniella had been laying on the floor, practicing their alphabet on the little pads of paper Dan had seen on his first day. The princess had almost fully covered one sheet with a messy print of the first few letters in upper and lowercase, but Alice had written hers carefully, in handwriting so small the entire alphabet barely took up the page.

His sister folded her arms, eyeing him scrutinizingly. "Better than you, I'd assume. You look awful; when was the last time you ate?"

"This morning," he lied, waving away Daniella, who was trying to push a piece of bread into his hands. "I'm fine, really. I got laid off for a few days from my job, but the others did wonderfully supporting us for that time. Now that I'm back, the first thing I plan to do is head to the market and buy us all some apples."

That was an exaggeration. Dan knew he probably wouldn't get money until the end of next week, for one, and even then it would only be enough to pay for three. Maybe he'd just buy two and make the others split it evenly.

"I'm just glad you're alright." Both girls hugged him, their heads barely reaching past his midriff.

Just as her twin had been, Alice had gotten the worst side of luck when it came to height. She would grow, he knew, but it seemed she had inherited their mother's shortness. In fact, with her wide eyes and straight hair, Alice resembled her more than anyone else in the family. He only hoped she wouldn't receive her bad luck too.

Dan smiled down at them. "Of course I'm alright. It'd take a lot more than a rumbling stomach to kill me."

He heard footsteps on the cold marble of the hallway behind him. Dan turned, dropping to his knees immediately. The man sent him a cold glare and beckoned Dan to follow him, turning back out the door.

Looking worriedly back at the girls, Dan trailed after the king.


	8. Chapter 8

Phil had had bad days.

He had had days where he was certain he would be mauled by some sort of bear during a hunt. Days where he would rather be attacked by such an animal than be stuck in his current situation. And, of course, days that just sorta sucked.

Today was not one of those days.

Today was the kind of day he just wished he could take a pleasant stroll through the garden, where a warm, peaceful wind would gently urge him forward...towards the edge if a cliff, where he would fall off and die.

Weddings never seemed to be the best of days for anyone. Even the now-queen, his father's second wife, had cried on the day of hers.

He couldn't help but wonder how Merabeth was feeling. Was she sad? Angry? Happy? Did she even care?

Phil would try to be a good husband to her, though he knew it wouldn't matter. When she had to, she would stand by his side and support his decisions. The perfect queen, when the time came. At every other time, she would ignore him, most likely. Run straight from his side into her lover's arms.

At least he knew he would be able to do the same.

Dan hadn't been there in the morning. He never skipped that time; Phil may not need him to help with anything, but it was the time when they talked. About their sisters, Dan's family. The future and the past alike. He loved those moments; they both did. It was one of the only times during the day when they could both be truly candid with each other.

Phil had checked with Alice and Daniella, but neither of them had seen him all day either. They didn't seem to mind; neither had ever loved schoolwork, even with Dan.

It would make sense that Dan wouldn't want to be at the palace, today of all days. Between the chaos outside, where a colorful crowd of citizens and guests was already gathered, and the fact that he had somehow managed to hurt his leg in the past few days, Phil would be incredibly surprised if he would be able to make it to the palace at all. Or if he would even want to. As much as Phil wanted to convince himself that Dan was being distant for any reason, any besides the obvious, he knew. After today, it was official. He could never be Dan's, and Dan could never be his.

Even he was struggling with the pain of it.

As Phil walked down the hall, visiting lords and dukes and ladies bowed and curtsied to him before scurrying away again like there was fire at their feet. The only one who didn't was a pretty girl in a maid's uniform.

He smiled and stepped to the side, putting an arm around the girl and leading her to walk with him. Lucy was a childhood friend of his, and one of the sweetest people he knew. Having seen how close they had gotten even just during the past week, Phil could only guess she would be Dan's future wife.

He could find no resentment towards the girl for that. After all, it was only fair that Dan find someone to settle down with, and she the same. With his bitter tinge and her overall sweetness, they would form a perfect sort of balance. It would only be natural.

"Alice. How're you doing today? Did you get to see any of the performances in the square? It's quite chaotic. Fun, but chaotic."

"Hello, Your Highness. I didn't manage to get out yet; maybe when I'm done with today's work I can head outside. I'm sure the events after the wedding will be even more grand. This kind of thing only happens for people like me once in a lifetime, you know."

She was right, of course. While the prequel to the nuptials would be fun, after would be twice as amazing. Not just to celebrate the future, but the past and present as well.

"Well, from now on I give you leave to go out and enjoy all of it." He handed her a handful of coppers as well, "And take these, too. If anyone objects, send them to me."

"Thank you, Phil," her eyes shined as she accepted the money. "I really do appreciate this. Though before I go, I must ask, are you alright?"

"Hmm?"

"You seem slightly distant today. Are you happy?"

He ran a hand down his face with a sigh, looking around the hall. The few people who lingered in it scurried immediately at his glare. Once they were gone, Phil shook his head, letting his shoulders drop. "No, Alice. I'm far from it. I don't want to marry Merabeth, I want to...well, I suppose it doesn't matter. And Dan isn't here today, so I suppose I'll need a new butler for the day."

"Oh, of course you won't," she beamed. "I can't help you with the first part, but I don't suppose you'll need to find new help."

"Is he-is he here?"

Alice nodded. Phil was barely able to sputter out a strangled "Goodbye" before taking off down the hall and turning into his room.

A tall figure stood near the bureau, light from the nearby window illuminating his face in a blinding halo. Dan turned around so that he was facing Phil and smiled slightly. It was one of the smiles Phil always gave, closed-lipped, only halfway there. But it was enough for now.

Phil stumbled towards him blindly, wrapping his arms around Dan's shoulders. The other boy gave a small grunt at the sudden weight, but hugged him back nonetheless.

"What is this all for?" Dan asked, pulling away to sit on the edge of the bed. Phil joined him.

"I wasn't expecting you to come today. You weren't there this morning."

"I just took a while to walk here. I had to head back about halfway because my leg started bleeding again." Phil gave him a scrutinizing look and he sighed. "Honestly, Phil. It hurts to see you with...her, the princess, but not nearly as much as it would to go on without you. Therefore, you're stuck with me 'till the end of time."

"Even when it causes you pain?"

Dan bit his lip and took Phil's hands in his own, rubbing his thumb in rhythmic circles on the back of Phil's palm seemingly subconsciously. "Look, Phil, the whole time I've known you, I've also known that I...that I could never be with you." His voice remained strong as he spoke. "This is just another stab wound, really."

Phil leaned his head against Dan's shoulder. It felt strange, being the vulnerable one. Voice muffled against the other's shirt, he murmured, "Do you ever wonder what it would be like if this was different?"

"Which part?" He said tiredly, "You and I? Our roles, as king and servant? Our genders? The world? Simply the wedding, with me in place of the princess? Take your pick, because I've thought for far too long about all three."

Phil could relate.

"The latter, I suppose."

"Well, I'm certain it would be one of a kind." Dan chuckled slightly, "But just as celebrated. Even now, not many probably care about the actual union. It's all about the celebrations that come along with it. It would be grand, it would be elegant, and the night after the honeymoon your father would kill me."

"He wouldn't."

"Possibly."

"What was your parent's wedding like?"

"Horribly romantic. My mother's friends spent hours searching for the most beautiful flowers, and then braided them in her hair. They used to say their vows from that day after every fight, as a reassurance that they were still in love. 'And you'll be mine and I'll be yours, and if you die I'll die, and 'till the end of time we'll be together'. Their type of love was the kind you always felt like you could drown in, or drown just from being around. I always wanted to find someone I could love like that."

"And?"

Dan kissed Phil's cheek. "And I did. C'mon, you need to get dressed. It's going to start in an hour."

"You sound way too upbeat for that."

"I'm just trying to pretend it's us getting married today. It's a cruel sort of therapy."

Phil couldn't have agreed more.

The king had personally offered Dan a front row seat to the event. Of course, after their little "chat" he knew it wasn't exactly from the good of his heart.

 _"Your Majesty. Is there something you'd like to speak to me about?"_

 _"Don't be sharp with me, you child." The king lifted his sharp chin. His features were so like his son's-high cheekbones, full pink lips. Blue eyes like a peak of sky through the clouds. "I am your superior, and I think you know just how easily I could have you disposed of."_

 _"Of course I do, Your Majesty. Master Phillip already filled me in on that particular detail."_

 _Dan glared at him, hoping to get as much contempt across as he physically could with just his eyes._

 _"You may be wondering why I wanted to talk to you."_

 _"I'm absolutely baffled."_

 _"I saw you with my son."_

 _"Oh?"_

 _"In the garden. I have to say, I never knew anyone could taint his mind more than that wretched Christian."_

 _Dan's fists curled at his sides. Warmth spread through him, but not the good kind, like what he felt when he looked at Phil. The hot, angry kind. One of fury. "It was Carlton, sir. The one you killed was named Carlton, and you're a monster for doing so. You damn near killed your own son, and-"_

 _The king waved him awake flippantly. "You can't possibly believe that I actually_ care _. At any rate, Phillip decided to protect you, though I can't imagine why. It would only take him another few weeks to find a new peasant to play around with."_

 _"You know, everyone says that's what he's doing, but it sure doesn't seem like that when he kisses me."_

 _"I would advise you to stop right there."_

 _"Or when he wraps his arms around me. Or when I walk into his room every morning, and I think he's just going to say hi, but instead he spurts out the most romantic thing."_

 _"You're nothing but a peasant who doesn't deserve a second of his attention."_

 _"All a matter of opinion, I suppose. You know what I think? I think you're a sad, misunderstanding little-"_

 _The king snapped his fingers and stepped away from the raging boy. A group of burly men stepped up instead and pushed Dan against the wall._

 _His head hit the stone, and when he woke up an hour later Daniella and Alice were leaning over him with worried faces. The king was gone._

Dan opened his eyes. The wedding was in full swing, by now. The priest was spurting some crap about "duty" and "honor" and "life, for our country and themselves".

His eyes were focused on Phil, looking impossibly indifferent and regal with his blue suit and gold staff, when he heard the scream.


	9. Chapter 9

After the first scream, mayhem was imminent.

Dan sent the prince a confused look through the frenzy of people, all pointing towards the front of the room. Women were weeping, men screaming. But he couldn't see why; after all, there had been no gun shot. No one appeared to be bleeding or openly hurt.

Only once had he seen such an uproar; ten years ago, during a parade. A man had pulled out a knife and started to stab another in a fit of drunken rage. He had accused the victim of cheating with his wife, but no one was to ever find out if that was true. The woman killed herself not a week after the incident.

Phil disappeared behind several guards. The fear on his face was obvious enough for Dan to stand, only to be pushed back by a soldier. After a moment, the crowd began to open up and he was able to see the source of the chaos.

The air around him suddenly grew cold.

The king was being carried by several men. He was twitching, holding a hand over his chest. A light sheen of sweat covered his face.

As he was carried out the door, the man only shouted one thing: "Kill him, do it now!"

Seeming to understand this hazy message, a group of guards grabbed Dan from behind, dragging him from the room and ignoring his protests. Phil could only watch helplessly as the chapel doors swung behind him.

? ﾟﾌﾙ?

Phil stormed into the room, doors flying open in front of him. The wedding cape he was wearing had fallen off somewhere between the chapel and the sickroom, pulled off under one of several hundred pairs of feet.

His father lay in the bed before him. It had only happened a few minutes ago, really-the chaos, the screaming. His father's writhing, making it seem as though his body had been possessed by some sort of devil. And blinks before that he had been normal. Calculating and cut-off and regal and his father. Tall and strong and never wavering.

His father had always been pale, as had Phil. But now the king's skin had reddened, and he looked as though he were choking for breath. However, the breaths came in and out just the same. He was a strong man; Phil had no doubt he would survive whatever this curse was.

He just didn't know if he wanted him to.

One on hand, there was the man he loved. The one who had cared for him and laughed kindly at his attempts to act like a king at the ripe age of five, who had rolled around with him in the mud on days when the weather was ruining Phil's mood. The man was was a father and simply that.

But then there was the king. The one who wasn't afraid to hurt people, even Phil himself, to get what he wanted. Who was weak and strong in all the wrong ways, the ways that got people killed and tormented. Who couldn't seem to make a strong decision without anyone dying.

He had taught Phil how to be, and how not to be.

"Father...sir, how are you? Well? Do you need water?" Phil stood, fidgeting, at the edge of the bed. The king had always seemed so tall, impossibly big and important, but now he was small. Weak. It made the prince uncomfortable to see.

"No." He blinked slowly. "No, don't. Just...sit, here."

He waved his hand tiredly and a servant stepped away from the wall, dragging up a chair for Phil to sit on. The screech echoed across the room as a reminder of the situation's awkwardness.

The king took a deep breath, breath rattling. "I think this is the end for me, my son."

"Don't say that." Phil took his father's hand in his, squeezing it once, tightly. He could tell the king was trying to return the gesture but was far too weak.

"It's true, and you know it. I just...I have a few things to say to you before I go."

The guards, as though sensing the underlying message, all bowed and left the room. Most of them seemed to be slightly relieved.

"First, I need you to go through with this wedding. More than anything, this will ensure our country's good future. I know you have...feelings for this Daniel, but the bloodline is more important. This empire is more important." He spoke passionately, voice rising. "You have been born and raised into this position, and I only wish I had more time. Time to help you grow, guide you in these first few months. See you marry your beautiful fiance."

"I know, father."

"This is more important than anything. You can't waste this."

"I know."

"Then you'll understand why I had to do what I did."

Phil's pulse slowed. The world seemed to spin a little slower, throwing his entire world out of balance. "What do you mean?" He asked, voice barely a whisper. He stood, the chair falling behind him. "What did you do to him?"

His father fell back against the pillows wearily. "I have to, Phillip. hell knows I've killed enough, but what's one more for the good of you, the good of this kingdom? Heaven will have to let me in after all I've done. Don't be so unreasonable-he doesn't love you, you know."

"What do you mean?"

"We talked about a week ago." He mustered a sympathetic look. "He's a servant, you know. He can't muster the feelings to love; even if he could, it wouldn't be for you. It's simply not done."

Phil backed out the door, shaking his head. Tears pooled in his eyes as he attempted to hold back the words he wanted to spit out. They would only hurt whoever they reached. And, as they would directed towards his father, he knew he just couldn't do it.

No one should die believing they were not loved.

Alice and Daniella were sitting in the hallway. In their hands and surrounding them were dozens of flowers and petals. Each of them were picking off the petals on the flowers (daisies and lilies and roses) and playing _He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not_. The two girls giggled to each other, not seeming to notice Phil standing in front of them.

He cleared his throat. The two of them looked up boredly, making it impossible for him not to smile. Phil remembered how shaky and nervous Alice had been when she first came to the palace. Now she was as cynical and confident as her brother. Somehow, this death trap had become her home.

"Don't you want to see him?" He asked, nodding his head towards the door. "It might be your last chance. You don't want to regret this kind of thing for the rest of your life."

She shrugged, throwing down the flower that she was fidgeting with and pushing herself to her feet. "He won't let me in. I've already tried, but he doesn't want to see me. I guess I'm just not important enough."

Daniella stormed away, leaving Alice to stumble behind her.

Phil wanted to follow her, to be the big brother she needed, but there were more important things to deal with first.

? ﾟﾌﾙ?

The stone in the prison blocked out any and all light, and it was driving Dan insane. It was impossible to tell how long he had been locked away, whether it be hours or minutes.

It didn't help that he was afraid of the dark. Not just the things in it, but the actual blackness itself. When he was in it, it felt like something was crushing around him. Like a physical force, thick and choking.

He heard voices and the door to the cell hall opened. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, light flowed into the room.

After so long, Dan recognized Phil just but the shadow he cast. He stood at the now-open door, arms folded. Next to the guard, even he looked impossibly small.

"Let me in." His voice echoed against the stone walls. "I swear to God, I will kill you if you don't let me in. I will kill you and your family and anyone you have ever known and or loved if you do not _let me the fuck in_."

The other man stepped aside out of surprise, but it was enough. The prince stormed through, looking wildly into each cell.

"Over here!" Dan jumped off what called for a bed in this hell, grabbing onto the bars.

Phil sprinted over, taking Dan's hands through the gaps. "Daniel." He breathed, eyes searching Dan's face for injuries. "How are you? Did anyone hurt you? Are you thirsty, hungry?"

"No, I'm fine," he lied. In truth, his already shaking leg felt like it was going to fall off from the bumpy drag over and his head was pounding.

"Are you sure? I could bring you some pillows, blankets. Better food than whatever slop the serve in this place." Dan would've been surprised if they served any. "Anything, just name it."

"Nothing. There's nothing you can bring me that would make this place any better, and that's the truth we both know. Just...tell Alice I love her. The others, too. Make sure Phillip's grave is never empty of color. That's the only thing that could make me happy now. To know that someone is watching after them."

Dan knew that, no matter how Phil fought, he would never leave this place alive. The king would make sure of it, wherever he was. He was glad he had at least been able to see the prince this one last time before Phil's father put an end to it.

Scratch that-he wasn't glad. It settled something for him, to be sure. No one would torture someone so painfully if they were just going to die soon. It gave a sense of finality to everything. His hope. His wild imagination, wondering how the very limits of his mind and body would be put to the test. His life. But it was also so, so hard to see Phil, standing there in his tattered wedding garments and attempting to hold a smile. To be so close to the one he loved and not able to do anything more than hold his hand.

Dan used to think luck was on his side. He had managed to secure a well-paying job at the palace and find a friend in his employer. His sister was about to enter a strong, loving marriage and he knew that one day his brothers would do the same. But after that, when the sun had set and dew had soaked those pairs of boats what felt like lifetimes ago, everything changed.

Now he knew that his fate wasn't his. It was up to God, or the gods, and they were playing a cruel game indeed.

"You didn't tell me you talked to my father."

Dan looked up from the dirt-covered and stained floor, stomach twisting. Phil's voice was quiet, but echoed against the walls. He had heard that they were made that way, so guards could hear prisoner's very breaths. That way, no one could plan an escape. "I didn't think it would matter."

Looking at the prince, Dan could tell that it most definitely did.

"Look, Phil, he hated me anyways. Nothing I said would've made it worse or better, and I think you know that, too." He let go of the other's hand and collapsed on the ground, exhausted. "In case that was going to be your next big discovery, he's the accident I had with my leg. I woke up and there was a long gash in the side of it. It's been bleeding all week."

Phil peered at him doubtfully. "That's not what he said."

"Well, who are you going to believe, then?" Dan snapped, causing the guards to break from the walls just slightly. "The one who loves you or the one who gave you those scars?"

"I don't know who to believe anymore."

Phil pulled away from the bars. The glisten in his eyes was visible even through the dark. Dan pushed himself up painfully, using the wall for support. "Wait, Phil," The prince stopped, turning his head slightly to show Dan had his attention. "At least tell me when it's going to be."

"Tomorrow."

Phil turned away. The only sound to follow for many hours was the sound of the door closing, the guard's feet as they paced, and Dan's gentle sobs as he thought of what was to come.


	10. Chapter 10

Without any light, it was nearly impossible for Dan to figure out how long he had been in the prison. Still, counting the twice daily meals and number of shifts, he was able to deduce that it was more than just one. Four, by his guess.

He was fitfully asleep on the early morning of the fifth when the door to his cell was pulled open.

Dan sat up blearily, patting the back of his hair down with a heavy hand. He yawned, watching the guard reach into his pocket with half closed eyelids. To his surprise, the man pulled out a dagger and a strand of sturdy rope. He tied Dan's wrists together and held the knife to his throat. "Don't try and run away, you hear?" He said, pulling the knots tighter. "The king wants to see you. First, we're gonna get you washed up."

"Alright." Dan was too tired to do anything more than agree. If the king wanted to see him, so be it. The worst he could do was sentence him to death again.

Scratch that; the worst he could do would be killing him in front of Phil. Maybe for Dan, physically, it'd all be the same; some sort of bright light, maybe darkness. Whatever came after. But for Phil there was a life, a thing that kept on going. He didn't need it to be ruined by another death.

The guard lead him into the servant's bathhouse. It was empty at this hour. In fact, even the sky seemed to be asleep now. It was black and devoid of most stars, and the ones that did shine seemed to be the weakest.

Despite the fact that someone had actually went through the effort to warm the water, Dan washed up hurriedly. He ran his hands through his hair and tried to ignore just how curly it would become. He scrubbed his face and arms until the dirt dyed the water brown. There was nothing that could be done about his prison clothes, but the guard handed him a fresh exchanged at the door anyways.

As soon as Dan was changed, he felt the rope rub against his wrists. "So we're doing this again?" He muttered, rolling his eyes. "Do you have any idea how annoying this is? And if you're going to manhandle me, you might as well tell me your name."

"John. Now will you just be quiet?"

"John...that name rings a bell." The guard jerked on Dan's arms a little too tightly, pulling him forward with more force than necessary. "Ah, I know," Dan smirked, "you're the princess's boy toy."

"And you're the prince's."

"Touche."

John led him back into the castle, where the first round of servants were beginning to roam. They walked the hallways Dan knew better than the streets of his own town. Behind that door was the kitchens; the chef was always willing to spare a few extra mouthfuls for anyone who was going through a particularly hard time. Through that window Dan could see the place he and Phil had first kissed, and where they chose to meet every night Dan stayed late and whenever they both could arrange a break.

The memories gave him a sort of odd comfort. While it hurt to know that it would be the last time Dan saw these places, felt this nostalgia, he knew that the people he shared them with wouldn't forget him as easily as the world would. The recognition may fade, but someday they might be reminded of him, whether it be in a smile or a tear. After all, wasn't that the point of being on this earth? To make a name for yourself, to do your best not to be forgotten?

If so...well, he had done his best.

They entered a great circular room with walls made of pure marble. One either side was a line of guards, all standing stiffly in their uniforms. A tall window illuminated the far wall. The sunlight pouring in through it obscured Dan's vision for a moment. He blinked, and when his eyes adjusted he saw that in front of the window was a throne, given an eerie halo from the light.

John nudged him forward, much more gently than he had been before. Dan figured he probably felt bad for the sorry sucker standing before him.

As he moved closer, Dan could see that there was someone sitting on the throne. A man, dressed royal garments. A crown on his head.

It was Phil. Dan barely needed to see his outline to tell that; but the crown was one of a king. Tall, gold, with the church's cross connected to strips of jewels. He recognized it as the one Phil's father had worn at the would've-been wedding.

Dan watched, perplexed, as Phil waved everyone else out, leaving the two of them alone in the cold, wide room. He knelt hesitantly.

The king had to have died. That would explain why Dan was still alive, and Phil's coronation had probably taken place during the following chaos. Or maybe the kingdom had been in such disarray that it hadn't happened at all and he had only claimed the crown unofficially.

"Dan."

The word startled him. The (prince, king, whichever, whatever) hadn't meant for it to be so loud, as was obvious by the surprise on his own face, but his voice carried in the room, as it had in the prison.

Phil coughed awkwardly and continued, standing up and motioning for Dan to do the same. Being on equal level did nothing to dispel the tension. "As I assume you've learned by now, the old king is dead. I overturned his order to have you killed and claimed his crown, but the actual coronation and wedding haven't happened yet. Though from the bored expression on your face I suppose you know that already."

"I may have guessed."

"Anyways...I had a thought. If I'm not really the king-"

"Phil, you _are_ the king."

"But I'm not! Just let me finish, alright?" Phil flashed Dan one of his special half smiles. "Officially, I'm not the ruler of this kingdom. I could pass it onto someone else; my cousin or nephew, even Daniella if I wanted. No one would be able to object to that."

"I would! Why would you want to leave all this?" Dan gestured at the grand room around them. "You have no idea what it's like-you know, out there. Where I live, no idea what it's like to be me. You'll never know the pain of going hungry for the third night in a row, or constant fear of turning the corner right into someone's knife. And I don't know how I would bear it if you did."

"I don't want this life, Dan. I was raised into it, born into it. Never once did anyone ask me how I felt or even thought to. And, yeah, maybe it is a hell of a lot better than starving to death on the streets. That doesn't mean I don't long to know that freedom. Of being able to leave my house, no matter how small, and wander around town. And marry whoever I want without anyone caring. And having a big, tight-knit family. One that has struggles, but struggles that only pull them closer together."

"You think that's freedom?" Dan scoffed. "I work day and night just to feed my family half a stomach of slop every day. I barely even know how to make it around my village, and when I do get the chance to head into the square I wander around like a lost cow for hours until someone takes pity on me and gives me directions. I'm a slave, Phil. I'm a slave to...to life."

"But just imagine if I wasn't king. If I was a butler, like you. No matter what time you or I would get home, we'd get home together. Or to each other. Doesn't that just sound wonderful?"

"It sounds like a fairy tale."

Phil frowned. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"The idea itself is wonderful, don't get me wrong. Nothing would make me happier. But you have to understand. Sometimes, imagining things, especially things like that, can hurt more than a dagger to the heart. _Especially_ when it'll never be real."

"It could be."

"It can't!"

Phil, who had been holding Dan's hands, pulled back at the outburst. The hurt on his face pained Dan, who forced himself to lower his voice, "I'm sorry, Phil. I just-I can't let you give up your happiness for me. Excuse me for saying this, but you just don't understand. You think you'd be happy, and maybe you would, for a while. But eventually you'd grow bored, and when you do you'd grow bitter, and we'd fight. We'd fight and fight and every hungry night would only make it worse. And eventually you'd wake up in an empty bed, wondering how it all went so wrong."

"You don't honestly think it would be that way."

"I don't think, Phil. I know. Everyone is meant for the life they're born in. You know why? Because, as each day hands you a new trial, you grow stronger. Slowly, but you do. And no one else is strong in the same ways, because no one lives the same life. Like how you're so much smarter than me and better at making general decisions, but I have street smarts. I can survive out there, but you, you're meant for life in here."

"I'm not a child, Dan. Someday maybe you'll see that." Phil shook his head, "Just go. I'll see you in the morning, alright?"

Dan nodded shortly. He leaned forward to give Phil a light kiss and left without argument.

? ﾟﾌﾙ?

Dan felt the frost already soaking through his boots and shivered. Snow was coming tonight, he was sure of it. The cold white covering would bring the king joy, but he dreaded the very idea of it. It would be wet, uncomfortable, difficult to walk through. And with snow always came disease, and with disease death. As if anyone needed any more of that.

"Phil?" He called out into the night. With the moon hidden behind clouds and his eyes unadjusted, Dan felt more vulnerable in the blackness than he ever remembered feeling. "I got your message from Alice. You said to meet you out here, so it'd be nice if I had someone to actually meet."

"I'm afraid it would be rather difficult for the ex-prince to meet you. He's a bit...displaced at the moment."

"John?"

The other man grinned, leaning against an oak tree. He gave a short, cynical bow. "At your service. now, I suppose you're wondering exactly where the king is."

"Just a bit, really." Dan was glad that he could manage to keep his voice calm, at the very least. The rest of him, on the other hand, was as tense as tightly pulled yarn.

"You see, Daniel, I don't really love the princess. Who would? She's rude, belligerent, and has a dastardly sense of humor. I just loved the plan she had made, the foolproof path to power."

"No..."

"Yes. I'm a man, I have ambition. Do you think I want to be stuck as a guard for the rest of my life? I'd rather die." John started to pace, fiddling with his belt. "Merabeth might be horrid, but she's smart for a woman. Together, and with the help of a few of my friends, including Little Miss Alice, we came up with the outline with what would be the greatest revolution scheme of the century. The prince and princess would marry, heirs would become rulers, and then, tragically, the new king would fall ill. And die, of course, leaving the throne wide open for me to step in. A good plan, is it not?"

"It would've never worked. There's hundreds of people that would be in line for the throne, hundreds you'd have to kill just to be relevant. Even then, you'd only be relevant in the way that everyone would be aiming to put your head under the chopping block."

"Then I'll just have to rid myself of any opposition. Starting, of course, with your precious Phillip."

Time seemed to stop and speed up at once. Dan's stomach twisted, throat clogged. The world around him rippled like a reflection in a river.

"Now, the question is, will you join me?" John stopped his pacing and turned to face Dan, eyes burning with the flames of hell. "A new reign is starting, Daniel. I'd like to give you the chance to be a part of it."

"I would rather die."

"Then I suppose you'll have to," John said calmly. "I guess you'll get to see your great love one last time, if that's any consolation. Now, are you going to come willingly, or do I have to use the knife?"

"Just show me the way."

? ﾟﾌﾙ?ￂﾠ

The guard pushed Dan into the cell. He fell onto the ground, the cold stone as icy as the frost that covered the world outside.

Immediately, Phil rushed to his side. "Oh no, no, no. Oh, God, please no. Dan, why? Why are you here too?"

He had never seen the prince so frazzled. Dan pushed himself up and took the other boy in his arms, the only thing he could think to do to calm him down. "It's okay."

"No, it's not okay! It's about as far away from 'okay' as it could possibly get! Don't you get it, Dan? There's no way to save us now. No one from the outside can come for us. This is the end."

Dan took Phil's chin in his hands, forcing him to hold it high. The way he used to, naturally, no matter what sort of situation they were in. "It is. Maybe it's over for us, here. The days are marked, the stars are saying farewell. But in any time or place or afterlife I will always feel the same. I will always feel the same butterflies when you kiss me and the same off this earth feeling whenever I see you. That's just what love is. And maybe, somewhere, in another world, we can find each other again. We can be together and fall in love all over again, and this time we'll be safe. No one will break us apart."

"Until we find that place, how long do you think we have until we have to say goodbye in this one?"

"When the sun rises, probably, so a good few hours. Why, are you tired?"

"Terribly," Phil sighed and leaned against him. "But I don't want to close my eyes. Everything would fly away too quickly if I did. We have so little time left already, I don't want to waste it. And don't ruin this by saying something stupid, I swear to God."

"I wasn't going to," Dan smiled, "and I don't say stupid things. Every sentence I utter is like part of a poem and you know it. And what I was _going_ to say was if you're tired, go to sleep. As funny as it is to watch a barely lucid Phil stumble through his words, you tend to become quite the bear when you're tired."

"But I don't want to say goodbye."

Dan kissed his forehead. "How many times do I have to tell you? I'll always, _always_ , be beside you. And as long as that's true, there'll be no need."

 **meanwhile, in an alternate universe we know as "modern day":**

Dan smiled, reaching out to accept the cup of tea Phil was handing to him. "Thanks," he rasped, throat sore from his cold. He coughed to clear it.

"No problem." His friend unpaused the game, and soon enough the _whoop whoop_ of Pac Man filled the room.

"Hey, Phil, do you think in some alternate universe we live in a kingdom and...oh, I don't know, you're king and I'm some sort of servant and we find love and in some sort of horrible, predictable, terribly-written ending, die?"

Phil pondered it for a moment. "No," he decided finally, "though it does sound like an awfully written fanfiction with a completely kinkbait title."

"Definitely."

 **well i think this ended in a worse way than any book ever. but at the same time you can go to** **Assbuttandangelwings** **if you have any complaints. i blame her.**

 **final count:**

 **10 chapters**

 **20, 791 words**

 **68 pages**

 **10 million spelling/grammar mistakes**


End file.
